The Sword of Gryffindor
by brandy01
Summary: On the run from Voldemort and his Death Eaters with Harry and Ron, Hermione becomes preoccupied with the Marauder's Map. While both of the boys are unable to comprehend her obsession, she finds solace in knowing that the person she has come to care for is safe from harm.
1. Part One

**Comments/Author's Notes: **I'd like to thank my beta for all of her hard work going through this nightmarishly long last-minute entry for me. Please note that the title is in reference to Neville's slaying of Nagini rather than whatever filthy ideas your minds might be conjuring (naughty).

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

**Prompt: **#24 - They would watch the map every single night, desperately hoping that Ginny was safe...yet the boys didn't understand why Hermione's fascination with the map bordered on fanatical.

* * *

The howling of the freezing wind in the Forest of Dean was loud and foreboding. Shivering in her bunk and unable to find rest, Hermione pulled her blankets around her tighter to try and fight off the cold.

She shut her eyes tightly and tried to will herself to sleep, to no effect. After a while she gave up on the idea of sleep and simply lay there, staring at the top bunk of the bed above her, the wooden slats a little rough. Reaching up, she touched the wood and immediately regretted it as a splinter pierced the skin of her forefinger, lodging itself uncomfortably in her flesh. She sighed and groped under her pillow for her wand, lighting the tip so that she could see the tiny splinter of wood and remove it.

After she had dislodged it, she tucked her wand away and sighed heavily. She flopped onto her back once more and resumed staring above her. Her mind was abuzz with thoughts, each one as confusing and aggravating as the next. She had no idea what the next day would bring for Harry, Ron and herself. They had the sword of Gryffindor now and after Ron had destroyed the necklace, things were finally calming down between the three of them. They had to make their next move, and in the morning, they would.

They would go to Xenophilius Lovegood and see Luna. He was the only one they knew who might have some knowledge of the mysterious symbol that they had found in the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and on the necklace that Mr. Lovegood wore. Hermione knew that there was some connection between the necklace and the story of the three brothers found in her book. All Hermione needed was that confirmation so that they would be able to move on to the next Horcrux.

Letting out a deep breath, she watched as the warmth turned to a foggy mist in the frigid cold of the air. She closed her eyes and again tried to sleep. Hermione tried to picture the three of them, as they had been this time the year before. Behind her closed eyes she could see the Gryffindor Common Room, the warm orange glow of the fireplace and the thick drapes that were pulled closed to trap the warmth inside the stonewalls of the castle. The three of them would sit on the lounge chairs surrounding the fire, and Hermione would spread her books out all over the place and try to force them to study.

She missed those times if she was honest with herself.

She missed Ginny and the rest of the Weasley's too. Everything had changed so quickly, and she knew that Ginny had been forced to return to Hogwarts when they had left her behind. Hermione knew that leaving everyone behind had been hard on all of them, particularly Ron. He was still struggling despite having finally returned to them after his short abandonment. She was still furious with him about leaving and petulantly storming off on his own, but during his time away, she realized that she did not harbor any romantic feelings for him at all.

Now all that she needed was for Ron to come to that conclusion himself. Lately she had noticed that he was utterly bent on getting them alone to try and apologise for leaving. She knew that his motives were not so simple, so she encouraged the three of them to spend a lot of time together to avoid being cornered. Quite often she would even have to imagine a chore in order to get away from him when Harry was standing guard outside. It would take him a while though – Ron was terribly thick at times.

Hermione rolled over on the thin mattress of her bunk, attempting to get comfortable, and was surprised to hear whispering coming from somewhere on the other side of the tent.

Frowning, she hauled herself into a sitting position and strained to try and hear what was being said. She gave up trying to listen to the incomprehensible whispering and swung her legs over the edge of the bed intending to investigate. She grabbed her thick winter coat and pulled it on over her pajamas, stuffing her feet into her worn slippers and followed the sound of the whispers into the common living area near the kitchen.

What she found was Harry and Ron hunched over a piece of parchment that was spread out over the wooden table with their wands emitting a dim glow as they examined what was in front of them.

Hermione quietly moved closer, so not to alert them to her presence as she snuck up behind them. Glancing over their shoulders she had to stop herself from gasping aloud as she realised that they were looking at the Marauder's Map. Annoyance bubbled up within her and she grasped both of them by the shoulder and pushed them apart abruptly. The two boys gazed up at her, Ron with an unashamed grin and Harry with a look of contrition.

'What do you two think you are doing?' she hissed angrily.

'I just wanted to make sure Ginny was safe,' Harry said softly, casting his eyes back down to the map and pointing at the dot marked "Ginevra Molly Weasley." 'I just want to know that she's not being harmed at Hogwarts with Snape there.'

Hermione felt her brown relax somewhat and sighed heavily. 'I know you are worried about her, Harry, and you as well Ronald,' she said calmly. 'But you can't just use that map to spy on people! It's an invasion of privacy.'

'You never seemed to have a problem with it when we were using it at Hogwarts,' Ron said, looking up at her.

Hermione shot a glare at him. 'If I knew just how many times the two of you were using it to get in and out of scrapes at Hogwarts, I would have reported you to Professor McGonagall,' she said curtly. 'I especially never approved of you using it to spy on people.'

'Without this map, Pettigrew would never have been discovered and poor old Sirius…' Ron tried to argue before Hermione held up a hand to cut him off.

'I know that this map has been of some value to us, Ron,' she said matter-of-factly. 'But that doesn't mean we should be abusing the privilege of having it in order to spy on people. How would Ginny feel knowing that her every move in the castle was being watched? As if she doesn't already have that happening to her with You-Know-Who running the school.'

Ron opened his mouth to argue but this time Harry put a hand on his shoulder to halt him in his tracks. 'No, Hermione's right, Ron,' he said with a sigh. 'I know we shouldn't be spying. I just want to be able to reassure myself every now and then, you know?'

Hermione nodded. 'I won't object if you occasionally check to make sure she's still there,' she conceded. 'I just don't want the two of you opening the map every spare chance you get.'

'We're not just using it to watch Ginny,' Ron blurted out then.

She frowned and put her hands on her hips. 'What do you mean?'

'We've been spying on Snape and his movements in the castle too,' he replied, nudging Harry to back him up.

'Harry, is that true?' she asked.

He nodded reluctantly. 'I know you don't think it's right to spy, but he's a Death Eater, Hermione. I just want to know what he gets up to on Riddle's orders in the castle.'

'I understand where you're coming from, truly,' she said softly. 'But what use is it to spy on a man who was left in charge of a school? What could he possibly do there…'

Hermione lost her train of thought then, as her eyes locked on a name she had not expected to see on the map. There, in the Gryffindor Common Room, his name written in bold, cursive script was Neville Longbottom. She felt her chest tighten a little. When had Neville returned to Hogwarts? She had thought he would have remained with his Grandmother during the war, and yet, there he was, his name floating in circles and the map showed him pacing around the Common Room. She closed her mouth, realizing that she had left it hanging open.

She shook herself from her thoughts when she realised that Ron was speaking to her again, and turned to look down at him. 'I'm sorry, what were you saying?'

Ron shook his head at her and mumbled a curse under his breath. 'Harry and I were just wondering what was wrong with you,' he said quietly. 'You looked lost in thought for a moment there.'

She nodded. 'I'm fine,' she lied. 'I just saw a few of our friends names floating around on the map and was relieved that they are relatively safe – well, as safe as they can be at Hogwarts.'

Harry nodded. 'I'm sorry if we woke you up with our talking,' he said with a small smile.

Hermione shook her head. 'It's fine,' she replied. 'I'm sorry for jumping down your throats. I know you're just concerned. I suppose it wont hurt for you to keep an eye on the map and make sure Professor Snape doesn't try anything suspicious.'

'You know, you don't have to call that greasy Death Eater "Professor" any more, Hermione,' Ron reminded her.

'I suppose I don't,' she said softly, letting her eyes wander back to Neville's name on the map. 'I hope they're all okay there.'

'They're fine, I'm sure,' Ron said.

Hermione nodded and with one last lingering glace at the parchment, she turned on her heal and made her way back to her bunk for the night.

'Goodnight, boys,' she called out once she had tucked herself back in beneath the blankets.

'G'night, Hermione,' the two of them said in unison.

* * *

Hermione felt her muscles tighten as another wave of pain coursed through her. She clenched her teeth together as she waited it out, willing it to go away.

As the fit of pain subsided, she relaxed her jaw once more and reached over to pick up a small jar sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. She unscrewed the lid and dipped her fingers into the ointment, sitting up so that she could massage it into the muscles of her arms, legs and side. She rubbed the muscle relaxant into her temples before placing the jar back onto the wooden table. With a sigh, she shifted back down into the bed and closed her eyes.

They had been at Shell Cottage for three days since their escape from Malfoy Manor. The day before she had forced herself out of bed and gone outside so that she could help Harry as he laid Dobby to rest in the grave that both he and Ron had dug together. She was in so much pain by the time they were finished that she could barely perform the charm to transform a pebble on the beach into a headstone for the grave.

Hermione had had no idea just how painful the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse would be. The pain of the initial curse itself was nothing compared to the twitching, throbbing and burning she experienced while her body tried to recover from the onslaught of torture. The scar on her arm from where Bellatrix Lestrange had cut her was still pink, but with the aid of some potions, she would be able to heal it so that the horrid marks would not remain.

Rolling over onto her side, she closed her eyes that were stinging from keeping them open for so long.

Hermione hated being bedridden, and her impatience with her recovery was causing her to become aggravated with little provocation. The few times Ron had come into the room by himself, she had ignored him, desperate for him to leave her be. Harry had been in a few times as well, with Ron tagging along as usual. The three of them had looked at the map several times over the past two days as they tried to figure out what Snape was up to in the castle.

As Ron and Harry were talking about that, Hermione found that she kept seeking out Neville on the map, surprising herself. What did it matter? He was relatively safe at Hogwarts, was he not? Why should she worry herself over Neville when the three of them were constantly in mortal peril? Her mind brought up so many questions, and she was unable to answer a single one of them. Hermione continued to watch as he walked the halls of Hogwarts while the boys kept their eyes out for Ginny and Snape.

She sighed and shook off the thought, looking over at the clock on the nightstand. It was already mid-afternoon and neither Harry nor Ron had come to see her that day. The only person she had seen was Fleur when she had brought her breakfast and lunch. Hermione had been pleasantly surprised by the change and maturation of the older witch. She had been extremely caring and helpful to her during her recovery, and often stayed to watch her eat and make sure that if she had a fit while doing so, someone was there to clean her up.

Hermione pushed herself up into a sitting position against the pillows of the bed, sticking her hand out towards her beaded purse and summoning a book from within wandlessly. She had learned how to use her wandless and wordless magic more efficiently while in the forest, and while she was incapacitated, the skill had come in handy from time to time. As she opened the book to read, she heard a knock on her door followed by Harry sticking his head in with his eyes shut tightly.

'Are you decent?' he asked.

Hermione chuckled dryly. 'Of course I am,' she replied. 'Come inside and sit with me.'

Harry grinned at her and slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. He walked over and sat on the bed beside her before withdrawing the map from his coat pocket. Hermione smiled as she watched him spread it out before them on the bed. Her eyes immediately scanned the page, seeking out the one name that would soothe her worried mind. She felt herself sag with relief when she saw that Neville was pacing in the Common Room again.

Ginny was in her bedroom in the girl's dormitories from what it looked like on the map, and Hermione was glad to see that the younger girl was all right. She didn't know what Harry would do if he was to lose her. She shook the thought from her head. The last thing they needed was for her to start thinking negatively. She needed to keep a level head for all of them.

Without thinking, she reached her hand out to trace the edges of Gryffindor tower on the map, sighing wistfully. If only things were different and they could all go back to school and learn, laugh, and do ridiculous things that didn't involve risking their lives in order to save an entire world from a raving magical lunatic. If only she could go back to the school, see all of their friends and talk to her Professor's about how she could add more courses to her already heavy workload.

Hermione missed the simplicity of a being able to enjoy her teenage years. She already felt far older than she was. She was eighteen going on thirty, and it didn't look like there would be any time to act her age in the near future.

'I really miss being at Hogwarts,' she said softly.

Harry put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. 'I know how you feel,' he said, resting his cheek against hers. 'I'm so lucky you are here with me though. You're the closest thing I have to family. I've never been so glad that Ron was a prat to you in our first year. If he hadn't been, we might not be friends, and I might not be lucky enough to have your wonderful mind guiding me through all of this.'

Hermione smiled as warmth flowed through her. She was lucky to have Harry as well. She'd never had any siblings, and she spent most of her childhood around other adults. Going to Hogwarts and living with other people her age had been a foreign concept at best. Befriending Harry and Ron after the incident with the troll at Halloween had been one of the most important parts of her life.

'I feel the same way about you,' she said with a smile. 'I never knew people my own age really – even in primary school I was a bit of a bookish loner. I am glad Ron was a giant prat.'

'Right, well now that we have that cleared up, why don't you tell me why you are suddenly so interested in looking at the map nearly every day with us?'

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as she sat, stunned by Harry's sudden question. What was she going to tell him? That she wanted to be sure that Neville was safe? What would he make of that information? He'd probably think that she fancied Neville. Such an idea was… ridiculous. She couldn't possibly harbor feelings for Neville, could she? She hadn't seen him since Bill and Fleur's wedding, and before then, not since the end of their sixth year.

She looked at his name on the parchment in front of her and felt her head spin as she gazed at it again. There was something there, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. Hermione knew that it wasn't something she could share with Harry – not yet - not when she didn't even understand it herself.

'I don't know,' she said with a sigh. 'I guess I just want to know that everyone is safe. I thought it was just curiosity to begin with, but I'm really worried.'

Harry frowned for a moment, as though he wasn't convinced, but shrugged it off. He would let it slide for the time-being it appeared.

'So, as soon as you are better, we'll need to talk to Olivander and Griphook,' Harry said, changing the subject. 'I want to know more about what the old man told Riddle, and I think Griphook might be able to help us with the Horcrux problem.'

'What do you mean, problem?' she asked.

'Well, you're current condition can leave you in no doubt that there is something in Lestrange's vault that she doesn't want anyone to find,' he replied.

Hermione nodded, comprehension dawning. 'I see,' she said quietly. 'I suppose there is no way to avoid it.'

Harry shook his head. 'I hope you still have some Polyjuice potion in that little beaded purse of yours,' he said, standing up from the bed. 'You never know when it might come in handy.'

Hermione nodded and grabbed her wand from the bedside table, giving the map a soft tap as she incanted 'Mischief Managed." The map folded itself back up, the lines disappearing. Hermione's eyes immediately looked to where the common room was once more before it faded, straining to see the name she immediately kept seeking. Her heart felt heavy as his name disappeared along with the rest of the ink. Picking up the folded map, she held it out to Harry who looked to be ready to leave.

Harry pushed it back towards her gently. 'You take care of it for a while,' he said softly. 'Examine it and learn everything you can about it. Who knows? We might need to know a great deal more about the castle soon than we already do if we ever need to get back inside it.'

Hermione wasn't sure if Harry was hinting that he knew it wasn't just that she was worried, but she had no choice but to disregard the feeling. She smiled at him and nodded, allowing him to embrace her before he left the room. Alone once more, Hermione clutched the map to her chest – it was the only way she could know – the only way she'd be able to see him and figure out what was going on in her mind and heart.

Leaning back against the pillows she allowed herself a small smile. Soon – soon she would know why.

* * *

_Slughorn's office had been decorated lavishly, and from the looks of it, a golden lamp dangling from the ceiling filled with real fairies had been added to the décor._

_Hermione gazed about the room feeling awkward. She had asked Cormac McLaggen as her date that night to annoy Ron, but now she felt like it had been a mistake. She had just narrowly avoided his attempt to kiss her beneath the thankfully not enchanted mistletoe, and had fled to a corner of the room where she was out of his line of sight. Harry and Luna had been kind enough to provide a distraction for her along with Professor Trelawney, who was quite inebriated, in order to aid her escape._

_She was quite fed up with the party and knew that it would only be a matter of time before Cormac would catch up to her again and try to grope and cajole her into snogging him. She was positively revolted by the idea, her skin crawling at the possibility. Sighing heavily, she decided that it was time for her to leave the party while she was still relatively unscathed. As a waiter passed with a tray full of filled punch glasses, she quite grabbed one before making her way to the nearest exit._

_Once outside the office, she breathed a sigh of relief and quickly swallowed the punch in the glass before vanishing the empty goblet._

_Disappointed and exhausted, she made her way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, her goal to get up the stairs to her dormitory without fuss and into her bed with a good book. She arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady moments later and after speaking the password, was allowed entry. She took off her heals once she was inside and was surprised to find the Common Room deserted. Feeling lethargic, she walked over to the lounges by the fireplace and went to sit in one of them without bothering to look._

'_Bloody hell, Hermione!' a voice exclaimed as she felt herself come into contact not with chair fabric, but another human being._

_Hermione jumped away immediately and spun around to apologise. 'Neville?' she asked in confusion. 'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to try and sit on you.'_

_Neville smiled up at her and shook his head, rising from the lounge chair. 'It's okay,' he replied, grasping her by the shoulders and leading her back to the armchair before gently pushing her down into it. 'You can have my seat. You look exhausted.'_

_She smiled at him gratefully, wanting to protest but too tired to do so. 'Thank you,' she replied. 'I've had a horrible night.'_

'_I thought you were at the Slug Club party?' he asked as he took a seat on the floor in front of the fireplace instead._

'_I was,' she said dryly. 'That is why I've had a terrible night. I was so stupid to think that taking Cormac would be a good idea. I would have been much better off if I'd just asked… well you, actually.'_

_Neville chuckled at her. 'I'd have been honored if you'd asked me to go with you, Hermione,' he said with a smile. 'But I'm not upset that you didn't. I know I'm not exactly the ideal date for any girl.'_

_Hermione frowned at him. 'That's an awful thing to say, Neville! You are one of the loveliest boys in this school. Look at what a gentleman you were when you took Ginny to the Yule Ball two years ago. Not one of the other boys was half as good a dancer as you!'_

_She watched as Neville's face turned as red as the velvet drapes that covered the windows. 'Thanks,' he murmured shyly._

_She offered him a smile, feeling herself flush at her very blunt delivery. She had the tendency of putting her foot in her mouth sometimes, and she felt really stupid now. Neville was such a sweet boy though, and she admired him despite his occasional clumsiness and natural shyness. He had really grown up a lot from the boy who she had been constantly helping to find his lost toad in their first year._

_She felt a yawn bubble up and covered her mouth just in time, her eyes closing as she realised just how tired she was._

'_Well, if that isn't a sign, I don't know what is,' she said, standing from the lounge chair. 'I think I'll go to bed. If you see Harry, let him know I got back here unmolested for me, please?'_

_Neville got up too and smiled, nodding at her. 'I'll let him know,' he said._

_Without thinking, she leaned over and gave him a light peck on the cheek before she realised what she had done and immediately fled to the staircase to the girl's dormitories. She felt asleep the instant her head hit the pillow – her embarrassment for actually kissing Neville a mere shadow in the back of her mind._

* * *

Hermione snapped her head around to listen to the conversation Harry and Ron were having on the other side of the room.

She had no idea why she was thinking about the night of the Slug Club Christmas Party, but it gave her some insight into why she kept thinking about Neville. She'd long admired him, despite his natural clumsiness and shyness. He was a good person, and he'd suffered a hard life, not knowing his parents just as Harry had never known his. However, Neville knew where his parents were and what had happened to them, and he had to face it every time he went to visit them at St. Mungo's.

He certainly held it together far better than others who had more fortunate lives despite his tragic past. She looked over to the other side of the room and saw that the two boys were still occupied with their conversation. Carefully, she withdrew the map from her beaded bag and tapped it with her wand, whispering the words that would reveal the map to her. She watched as the ink sprung to life on the parchment and the school was revealed. Her eyes immediately sought out his name, starting in Gryffindor Tower.

He was not there, so she continued her search, looking up every now and then to make sure she was not discovered.

A moment later she finally found his name, as it was moving fast along a corridor towards a wall. Frowning, her eyes continued to follow it before suddenly it disappeared from the map completely. She felt her stomach begin to travel up her throat and her heart stop. Where did his name go? She'd never seen him disappear off the map before. She was beginning to panic inwardly for a moment before her rational brain kicked in. The Room of Requirement most likely still existed and she had no doubt that some of the students still used it. She was glad that Neville had found a refuge.

So consumed by her thoughts, Hermione didn't notice that the two boys had stopped talking and were looking over at her.

'For someone who never wanted to look at that map, you sure do spend a lot of time pouring over it,' Ron said teasingly.

Hermione's head snapped up when she heard his voice and she felt her cheeks flush with colour. 'I just want to make sure we know everything about the castle before we go in there again,' she stammered.

Ron stood up and walked over to her opening his mouth to, no doubt, say something rude just as the barman of the Hog's Head Pub walked back into the room. He closed his mouth and sat back down beside Harry as they waited for the man to say his piece.

'You bloody fools,' he said gruffly, looking from one to the other of them. 'What were you thinking, coming here?'

''We can't thank you enough,' said Harry. 'You saved our lives!'

The barman grunted. Harry approached him looking up into his face trying to see past the long, stringy, wire-gray hair beard. Hermione saw that he wore spectacles, but even from where she was, behind the dirty lenses his eyes were a piercing, brilliant blue.

'It's your eye I've been seeing in the mirror,' Harry exclaimed. There was a silence in the room. Harry and the barman looked at each other. 'You sent Dobby.'

The barman nodded and looked around for the elf. 'Thought he'd be with you. Where've you left him?'

'He's dead,' said Harry. 'Bellatrix Lestrange killed him.'

The barman's face was impassive. After a few moments he said, 'I'm sorry to hear it, I liked that elf.'

He turned away, lighting lamps with prods of his wand, not looking at any of them.

'You're Aberforth,' said Harry to the man's back.

He neither confirmed nor denied it, but bent to light the fire.

'How did you get this?' Harry asked, walking across to Sirius's mirror, the twin of the one he had broken nearly two years before.

'Bought it from Dung 'bout a year ago,' said Aberforth. 'Albus told me what it was. Been trying to keep an eye out for you."

Ron gasped. 'The silver doe,' he said excitedly. 'Was that you too?'

'What are you talking about?' asked Aberforth.

'Someone sent a doe Patronus to us!'

'Brains like that, you could be a Death Eater, son. Haven't I just proved my Patronus is a goat?'

'Oh,' said Ron, 'Yeah . . . well, I'm hungry!' he added defensively as his stomach gave an enormous rumble.

'I got food,' said Aberforth, and he sloped out of the room, reappearing moments later with a large loaf of bread, some cheese, and a pewter jug of mead. He set the food on a small table in front of the fire. Ravenous, they ate and drank, and for a while there was sound of chewing.

'Right then,' said Aberforth when they had eaten their fill and Harry and Ron sat slumped dozily in their chairs. 'We need to think of the best way to get you out of here. Can't be done by night, you heard what happens if anyone moves outdoors during darkness. When the Caterwauling Charm is set off, they'll be onto you like bowtruckles on doxy eggs. I don't reckon I'll be able to pass of a stag as a goat a second time. Wait for daybreak when curfew lifts, then you can put your Cloak back on and set out on foot. Get right out of Hogsmeade, up into the mountains, and you'll be able to Disapparate there. Might see Hagrid. He's been hiding in a cave up there with Grawp ever since they tried to arrest him.'

'We're not leaving,' said Harry. 'We need to get into Hogwarts.'

'Don't be stupid, boy,' said Aberforth.

'We've got to,' said Harry.

'What you've got to do,' said Aberforth, leaning forward, 'is to get as far from here as you can.'

'You don't understand. There isn't much time. We've got to get into the castle. Dumbledore—I mean, your brother—wanted us—'

'My brother Albus wanted a lot of things,' said Aberforth, 'and people had a habit of getting hurt while they was carrying out his grand plans. You get away from this school, Potter, and out of the country if you can. Forget my brother and his clever schemes. He's gone where none of this can hurt him, and you don't owe him anything.'

'You don't understand,' said Harry again.

'Oh, don't I?' said Aberforth quietly. 'You don't think I understood my own brother? Think you know Albus better than I did?'

'I didn't mean that,' said Harry, whose brain felt sluggish with exhaustion and from the surfeit of food and wine. 'It's . . . he left me a job.'

'Did he now?' said Aberforth. 'Nice job, I hope? Pleasant? Easy? Sort of thing you'd expect an unqualified wizard kid to be able to do without overstretching themselves?"

Ron gave a rather grim laugh. Hermione was feeling strained.

'I—it's not easy, no,' said Harry. 'But I've got to—'

'Got to'? Why "got to?" He's dead, isn't he?' said Aberforth roughly. 'Let it go, boy, before you follow him! Save yourself!'

'I can't.'

'Why not?'

'I—' Harry looked overwhelmed. 'But you're fighting too, you're in the Order

of the Phoenix—'

'I was,' said Aberforth. 'The Order of the Phoenix is finished. You-Know-Who's won, it's over, and anyone who's pretending different is kidding themselves. It'll never be safe for you here, Potter. He wants you too badly. So go abroad, go into hiding, save yourself. Best take these two with you.' He jerked a thumb at Ron and Hermione. 'They'll be in danger long as they live now everyone knows they've been working with you.'

'I can't leave,' said Harry. 'I've got a job—'

'Give it to someone else!'

'I can't. It's got to be me, Dumbledore explained it all—'

'Oh, did he now? And did he tell you everything? Was he honest with you? I knew my brother, Potter. He learned secrecy at our mother's knee. Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Albus . . . he was a natural.'

The old man's eyes traveled to the painting of the girl over the mantelpiece. It was, now that Harry looked around properly, the only picture in the room. There was no photograph of Albus Dumbledore, or of anyone else.

'Mr. Dumbledore,' said Hermione rather timidly. 'Is that your sister? Ariana?'

'Yes,' said Aberforth tersely. 'Been reading Rita Skeeter, have you, missy?'

Even by the rosy light of the fire it was clear that Hermione had turned red.

Aberforth launched into an explanation about his sister Ariana, and Hermione listened intently as he talked. She was moved by the story but she couldn't help but feel as though the man was holding onto a lifetime of bitterness and taking it out on Harry. As far as she was concerned, they were all being manipulated constantly by outside influences and it was beyond any of their control. They were all puppets. She was interrupted from her thoughts by Harry's next words.

'We need to get into Hogwarts,' said Harry again. 'If you can't help us, we'll wait till daybreak, leave you in peace, and try to find a way in ourselves. If you can help us - well, now would be a great time to mention it.'

Aberforth remained fixed in his chair, gazing at Harry with the eyes, that were so extraordinarily like his brother's. At last he cleared his throat, got to his feet, walked around the little table, and approached the portrait of Ariana.

'You know what to do,' he said.

She smiled, turned, and walked away, not as people in portraits usually did. Instead she walked along what seemed to be a long tunnel painted behind her. They watched her slight figure retreating until finally she was swallowed by the darkness.

'Er—what—?' began Ron.

'There's only one way in now,' said Aberforth. 'You must know they've got all the old secret passageways covered at both ends, Dementors all around the boundary walls, regular patrols inside the school from what my sources tell me. The place has never been so heavily guarded. How you expect to do anything once you get inside it, with Snape in charge and the Carrows as his deputies . . . well, that's your lookout, isn't it? You say you're prepared to die.'

'But what…?' said Hermione, frowning at Ariana's picture.

A tiny white dot reappeared at the end of the painted tunnel, and now Ariana was walking back toward them, growing bigger and bigger as she came. But there was somebody else with her now, someone taller than she was, who was limping along, looking excited. His hair was longer than Harry had ever seen; he appeared to have suffered several gashes to the face and his clothes were ripped and torn. Larger and larger the two figures grew, until only their heads and shoulders filled the portrait. Then the whole thing swung forward on the wall like a little door, and the entrance to a hidden tunnel was revealed.

And out of it, his hair overgrown, face cut, robes ripped, clambered the real Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight. He leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled. 'I knew you'd come! I knew it, Harry!'

'Neville—what the—how—?' Harry sputtered.

But Neville had spotted Ron and Hermione, and with yells of delight was hugging them too. Hermione felt a rush of simultaneous relief and happiness when he went around her, and was amazed at the firmness of his grip. Her arms went around his neck, as she held on tight. He pulled back from her slightly and she saw warmth in his eyes as they glanced over her appearance. It was then that she finally took a moment to examine him more fully.

The longer Hermione looked at Neville, the worse he appeared. One of his eyes was swollen yellow and purple, there were gouge marks on his face, and his general air of unkemptness suggested that he had been living rough. Nevertheless, his battered visage shone with happiness as he let go of her and said again, 'I knew you'd all

come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!'

'Neville, what's happened to you?' she exclaimed.

'What? This?' Neville dismissed his injuries with a shake of the head. 'This is nothing, Seamus is worse. You'll see. Shall we get going then? Oh,' he turned to Aberforth. 'Ab, there might be a couple more people on the way.'

'Couple more?' repeated Aberforth ominously. 'What d'you mean a couple more, Longbottom? There's a curfew and a Caterwauling Charm on the whole village!'

'I know, that's why they'll be Apparating directly into the bar,' said Neville. 'Just send them down the passage when they get here, will you? Thanks a lot.'

Neville held out his hand to Hermione and she felt a jolt of excitement run through her as his rough hands grasped hers. Their eyes met for a moment and she saw, reflected in his eyes, the same relief and happiness she knew she was projecting through hers. He helped her climb up onto the mantelpiece and into the tunnel and Ron followed. The three of them paused to wait for Harry as he stopped to address Aberforth on his way through.

'I don't know how to thank you. You've saved our lives twice.'

'Look after 'em, then,' she heard Aberforth say gruffly. 'I might not be able to save 'em a third time.'

Harry joined them after that and they continued down the tunnel. There were smooth stone steps on the outside. It looked as though the passageway had been there for years. Brass lamps hung from the walls and the earthy floor was worn and smooth. As they walked, their shadows rippled fanlike across the wall. Hermione walked beside him and tried not to stare. She glanced back at him and felt her face flush when she caught his eye. Neville offered her a small smile and for a moment she felt her heart stall in her chest.

'How long's this been here?' Ron asked, breaking the silence. 'It isn't on the Marauder's Map, is it, Harry? I thought there were only seven passages in and out of the school?'

'They sealed off all of those before the start of the year,' said Neville. 'There's no chance of getting through any of them now, not with the curses over the entrances and Death Eaters and Dementors waiting at the exits.' He started walking backward, beaming, drinking them in. "Never mind that stuff… Is it true? Did you break into Gringott's? Did you escape on a dragon? It's everywhere, everyone's talking about it, Teddy Boot got beaten up by Carrow for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner!'

'Yeah, it's true,' said Harry.

Neville laughed gleefully, which made Hermione smile. 'What did you do with the dragon?' he asked.

'Released it into the wild,' said Ron. 'Hermione was all for keeping it as a pet—'

'Don't exaggerate, Ron—' she snapped.

'But what have you been doing? People have been saying you've just been on the run, Harry, but I don't think so. I think you've been up to something.'

'You're right,' said Harry. 'But tell us about Hogwarts, Neville. We haven't heard anything.'

'It's been . . . well, it's not really like Hogwarts anymore,' said Neville, the smile fading from his face as he spoke. 'Do you know about the Carrows?'

'Those two Death Eaters who teach here?'

'They do more than teach,' said Neville. 'They're in charge of all discipline. They like punishment, the Carrows.'

'Like Umbridge?'

'Nah, they make her look tame. The other teachers are all supposed to refer us to the Carrows if we do anything wrong. They don't, though, if they can avoid it. You can tell they all hate them as much as we do. Amycus, the bloke, he teaches what used to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, except now its just Dark Arts. We're supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who've earned detentions—'

'What?'

Harry, Ron, and Hermione's united voices echoed up and down the passage.

'Yeah,' said Neville. 'That's how I got this one.' He pointed at a particularly deep gash in his cheek. 'I refused to do it. Some people are into it, though; Crabbe and Goyle love it. First time they've ever been top in anything, I expect. Alecto, Amycus' sister, teaches Muggle Studies, which is compulsory for everyone. We've all got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, how they drove wizards into hiding by being vicious toward them, and how the natural order is being reestablished. I got this one," he indicated another slash to his face, "for asking how much Muggle blood she and her brother have.'

'Blimey, Neville,' said Ron. 'There's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.'

'You didn't hear her,' said Neville. 'You wouldn't have stood it either. The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them. It gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Harry.'

'But they've used you as a knife sharpener,' said Ron, wincing slightly as they passed a lamp and Neville's injuries were thrown into even greater relief.

'Doesn't matter. They don't want to spill too much pure blood, so they'll torture us a bit if we're mouthy but they won't actually kill us.'

During the entire conversation Hermione had been unable to speak. She was stunned. She had no idea what to say after hearing all of the things that Neville had been through since returning to Hogwarts. She felt heaviness weighing on her heart and she wanted to reach out, hold him, stroke his face and heal his wounds until he looked like the boy she had left behind. The man who she was walking beside made her hurt on the inside.

They turned a corner and there ahead of them was the end of the passage. Another short flight of steps led to a door just like the one hidden behind Ariana's portrait. Neville pushed it open and climbed through. As Harry followed, he heard Neville call out to unseen people. 'Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?'

As Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams and yells: 'HARRY!' 'It's Potter, it's POTTER!' 'Ron!' 'Hermione!'

The next moment, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were engulfed, hugged, pounded on the back, their hair ruffled, their hands shaken, by what seemed to be more than twenty people. They might just have won a Quidditch final.

'Okay, okay, calm down!' Neville called, and as the crowd backed away, Hermione was able to take in their surroundings.

She did not recognize the room at all. It was enormous, and looked like the interior of a particularly sumptuous tree house, or perhaps a gigantic ship's cabin. Multicolored hammocks were strung from the ceiling and from a balcony that ran around the dark wood-paneled and windowless walls, which were covered in bright tapestry hangings. Harry saw the gold Gryffindor lion, emblazoned in scarlet; the black badger of Hufflepuff, set against yellow; and the bronze eagle of Ravenclaw, in blue. The silver and green of Slytherin alone were absent. There were bulging bookcases, a few broomsticks propped against the walls, and in the corner, a large wooden-cased wireless.

'Where are we?' Hermione asked, spinning around to look at Neville.

'Room of Requirement, of course!' he said. 'Surpassed itself, hasn't it? The Carrows were chasing me, and I knew I had just one chance for a hideout. I managed to get through the door and this is what I found! Well, it wasn't exactly like this when I arrived, it was a lot smaller. There was only one hammock and just Gryffindor hangings, but it's expanded as more and more of the D.A. have arrived.'

The next twenty minutes was a bit of a blur, and soon enough Hermione found herself enlisted by Ron to help him find a Basilisk fang, while Harry and Luna had run off without them to investigate Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. As Hermione ran after Ron, she looked over her shoulder once more to catch one last glance of Neville before all hell broke loose. She might not ever see him again.

* * *

To be continued.


	2. Part Two

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

* * *

Ron and Hermione ran towards Harry, both of their arms laden with the basilisk fangs they had harvested from the Chamber of Secrets.

'Where the hell have you been?' Harry shouted.

'Chamber of Secrets,' said Ron.

'Chamber—what?' said Harry, coming to an unsteady halt before them.

'It was Ron, all Ron's idea!' said Hermione breathlessly.

'Wasn't it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after you left, and I said to Ron, even if we had the other one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn't gotten rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The basilisk!'

'What the—?'

'Something to get rid of Horcruxes,' said Ron simply.

Harry's eyes dropped to the objects clutched in their arms; great curved fangs, torn, he now realized, from the skull of a dead basilisk.

'But how did you get in there?' he asked, staring from the fangs to Ron. 'You need to speak Parseltongue!'

Ron made a horrible strangled hissing noise.

'It's what you did to open the locket,' he told Harry apologetically. 'I had to have a few goes to get it right, but,' he shrugged modestly, 'we got there in the end.'

'He was amazing!' said Hermione. 'Amazing!'

'So...' Harry was struggling to keep up. 'So…'

'So we're another Horcrux down,' said Ron, and from under his jacket he pulled the mangled remains of Hufflepuff's cup. 'Hermione stabbed it. Thought she should. She hasn't had the pleasure yet.'

'Genius!' yelled Harry.

'It was nothing,' said Ron, though Hermione could see he looked delighted with himself. 'So what's new with you?'

As he said it, there was an explosion from overhead: All three of them looked up as dust fell from the ceiling and they heard a distant scream.

"I know what the diadem looks like, and I know where it is," said Harry, talking fast. "He hid it exactly where I hid my old Potions book, where everyone's been hiding stuff for centuries. He thought he was the only one to find it. Come on."

As the walls trembled again, he led the other two back through the concealed entrance and down the staircase into the Room of Requirement. It was empty except for three women: Ginny, Tonks, and an elderly witch wearing a moth-eaten hat, who Harry recognized immediately as Neville's grandmother.

'Ah, Potter,' she said crisply as if she had been waiting for him. 'You can tell us what's going on.'

'Is everyone okay?' said Ginny and Tonks together.

'As far as we know,' said Harry. 'Are there still people in the passage to the Hog's Head?'

Hermione knew that the room would not be able to transform while there were still users inside it.

'I was the last to come through,' said Mrs. Longbottom. 'I sealed it. I think it unwise to leave it open now Aberforth has left his pub. Have you seen my grandson?'

'He's fighting,' said Harry.

'Naturally,' said the old lady proudly. 'Excuse me, I must go and assist him.'

With surprising speed she trotted off toward the stone steps.

Harry looked at Tonks. 'I thought you were supposed to be with Teddy at your Mother's?'

'I couldn't stand not knowing…' Tonks looked anguished. 'She'll look after him—have you seen Remus?'

'He was planning to lead a group of fighters into the grounds…' Without another word, Tonks sped off.

'Ginny,' said Harry. 'I'm sorry, but we need you to leave too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in.'

Ginny looked simply delighted to leave her sanctuary. Hermione thought she looked a little bit too happy at the thought.

'And then you can come back in!' Harry shouted after her as she ran up the steps after Tonks. 'You've got to come back in!'

'Hang on a moment!' said Ron sharply. 'We've forgotten someone!'

'Who?' asked Hermione.

'The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?'

'You mean we ought to get them fighting?' asked Harry.

'No,' said Ron seriously. 'I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want anymore Dobby's, do we? We can't order them to die for us…'

There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet. The moment that their lips connected, Hermione knew that she'd made a horrible mistake.

'Is this the moment?' Harry asked weakly. 'Oi! There's a war going on here!'

Hermione hurried to release Ron, but when she looked over his shoulder once he had stopped trying to grab her face to kiss her again, she could see that another figure had just come up the stairs. When her brain was functioning properly again and her eyes focused, she could see that it was Neville along with his grandmother, standing at the top of the stairs. The look on his face told her that he was not only shocked, but also disappointed by what he had just witnessed. The way that he was looking at her just now, she knew he had just witnessed the entire thing.

Hermione watched with eyes that were quickly blurring with tears as he turned on his heal and stalked down the stairs the same way he had come. She felt her chest ache, and she knew for a fact that Ron was most definitely not the one she was meant to be with.

* * *

The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke, Neville sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall. Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet.

Hermione watched in surprise and horror as so many things occurred all at the very same second. Neville was covered in blood, sucking in deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to comprehend for himself what just happened as people were suddenly everywhere around them. She watched in disbelief as Harry's body disappeared and Hagrid started bellowing out his name as he frantically searched for Harry's remains.

She gave herself a mental shake, trying to bring herself back to the present and jump to action. The last thing she needed to do was lose her composure even more when there was clearly still a battle waging around her.

She spun around and saw that a lot of the Dark Lord's followers were either trying to get into the castle, in pursuit of their master, or fleeing for their lives. She was not going to let any of them get off so easily. Withdrawing her wand, she pushed her way through to where Neville still stood with the sword of Gryffindor, casting stunning and binding spells on everyone she passed dressed in the Death Eater garb. She finally reached him and moment later and immediately grabbed his hand, putting one hand on his face and turning his head to look at her.

'Neville?' she said, trying to get a reaction out of him.

He blinked and soon his hazel eyes were focused on hers. 'We need to get into the castle,' he said simply.

Hermione nodded and grasped his hand firmly with hers, leading the way through the fighting, taking out as many Death Eater's as she could along the way. Neville kept a firm hold of the sword in his other hand, occasionally swinging it and causing foes to lose their footing, giving their allies the advantage. It took a few minutes, but they finally arrived at the castle just in time to see Molly finish off Bellatrix Lestrange in the Great Hall, shrieking madly as she did so.

For a moment, Hermione felt the battle slow down, almost as though they were moving in slow motion. She could see Harry and Voldemort on the far side of the hall, a shouting match occurring between the two of them. McGonagall and Kingsley had teamed up to fight against a couple of masked Death Eater's. To her left, she Neville had charged Fenrir Greyback, and with the help of the sword and a stunning spell from Ron, the two of them brought the werewolf down with ease.

She cast a shielding charm on herself to deflect a stray spell, but it was too late. A blast from where Harry and Voldemort stood knocked nearly everyone off their feet, an explosion of two spells coming together the cause. Coughing, Hermione struggled to her feet once more and looked around. Everyone who hadn't been knocked out was struggling to their feet as the huge cloud of dust began to disappear. When it was finally gone, Hermione was relieved to see the form of her best friend, standing above the feeble, shrunken form of his foe.

As the sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light, Hermione rushed towards her friend. Upon reaching Harry, she threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

'I thought you'd died,' she exclaimed, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. 'Oh my god, I'm so glad you're okay!'

Ron was the next to arrive, and also embraced Harry. She could see there were tears in his eyes as well, though he fought against them. She felt a hand grasp hers from behind her somewhere and turned to see that Neville had joined the fast-growing group of people now surrounding the Boy Who Lived. A short while later, everyone stepped away to give him room to breathe and all of the dead were slowly, but surely, moved into the old trophy room where they would remain for a short time.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione found herself sitting at one of the House tables that had been restored by Professor McGonagall, while Professor's Flitwick and Slughorn helped to cast the charms that cleaned the rubble from the hall and restored the windows. She looked around and was pleased to see so many families had been reunited, even though some would be mourning those they had lost. Ron had gone to sit with his family to comfort George as he wept for the loss of his twin once more.

Hermione sat alone, with no family at all to comfort or mourn with her.

'Is this seat taken?' a familiar voice asked from behind her.

She turned her head to look and was surprised to find Neville looming over her. Unable to think of a single reason to refuse him, she nodded and moved over a little so he could join her at the table. She saw that he had added a few more bruises and scratches to his growing collection of injuries and noticed that the cuts on his face were particularly bad; some of the old wounds having reopened during the battle. Wordlessly she opened her beaded bag and pulled out her jar of muscle relaxing ointment and her dittany.

'I can heal those wounds of yours, if you'd like,' she told him, pointing at the cuts on his face. 'I wont leave a single scar.'

'I thought scars were meant to make men looked more ruggedly attractive,' he said teasingly.

'Only in silly romance novels,' she replied, opening the bottle of dittany and using the eyedropper tool so that she could apply it on him. 'So, would you like me to heal those?'

Neville didn't reply, which she took as a reply in the affirmative. She first carefully applied the dittany, which immediately began to heal the cuts, knitting his skin back together flawlessly. It was lucky that the cuts had been relatively fresh or the healing could have been much less effective. After his cuts had been healed, she pulled out the ointment, uncapping it and letting the slightly greasy-feeling paste coat the tips of her fingers. She gently rubbed it into his temples, watching as his eyes closed and hearing his soft sigh of relief.

'I know you saw me kiss Ron earlier,' she said quietly, unable to maintain their silence any longer.

'You don't owe me any explanations about that,' he said simply, cutting her off before she had a chance to explain. 'Ron has been mad about you for years. It only makes sense that you two would end up together.'

'I don't have any romantic feelings for Ron,' she said in a rush, eager for him to know the truth. 'I kissed him because he said something lovely about saving the house elves, and I was only going to hug him, but it turned into a kiss. It was all of the adrenaline. I don't love Ron the same way he still cares for me – I haven't for many months now.'

'Why are you telling me all of this?' he asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

Hermione sighed, wondering why herself. Perhaps, after having so many brushes with death during the majority of her teenage years, she just wanted to be honest and open about something. She glanced across the hall to where the Weasley's sat, knowing that everything she was saying to Neville was going to break Ron's heart.

'The whole time that we were on the run chasing the Horcruxes down, we had the Marauder's Map with us,' she explained. 'Harry and Ron were initially secretly checking the map to ensure Ginny's safety and to spy on Professor Snape, who we thought was a criminal at the time. The first night I looked at the map, I saw your name, and I was so relived to know you were still alive.'

'But I'm just… I'm just Neville Longbottom,' he argued.

'You're not "just" anyone, Neville,' she said firmly. 'The sword of Gryffindor doesn't just present itself to anyone. You'd be someone, even if the sword hadn't come to you – you always have been.'

'I'm not as smart or brave as you give me credit for,' he replied.

Hermione dipped her fingers into the ointment once more and this time focused her attention on the back of his neck where there was a fresh bruise already turning purple. Once she had completed the task of healing his visible wounds, she sat back to examine him. His face was much improved now; she could see the seventeen-year-old boy he was beneath the weariness.

'I've been obsessed with looking at that map for months now,' she said seriously. 'And yes, part of it was so that Harry would know that Ginny was okay. But every time I looked at it, the only name I was looking for was yours, Neville.'

'I don't know what to say,' he murmured quietly.

'That says plenty to me,' she replied softly, tears stinging her eyes.

Hermione felt her heart sink and her stomach ceased its quivering within her. He didn't have feelings for her. Hurt, she nodded and put her belongings back into her bag before hauling herself up from the bench. Without another word she turned on her heel and made her way over to the other side of the hall. She sat down at the end of what used to be the Slytherin table and fought off the urge to cry. Neville didn't want her. She knew that there was always the possibility that he would not return her feelings – logically. Her emotions, however, were a mess.

A few minutes later Ron meandered over to her and sat down beside her. He tried to take hold of her hand, but she pulled it away and patted his arm instead. Just because Neville didn't want her, it didn't mean that she would be encouraging Ron, especially while he was feeling depressed and needy. Harry joined them a few minutes later, covered by his invisibility cloak.

'It's me,' he muttered, crouching down between them. 'Will you come with me?'

They stood up at once, and together he, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade was gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as they climbed. Somewhere in the distance they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition:

'_We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one. And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!'_

'Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?' said Ron, pushing open a door to let Harry and Hermione through.

Happiness would come, Hermione thought. But after thinking about everyone she cared for who had lost their lives that day, she couldn't see when. Neville's face loomed in the back of her mind and she was stung by the thought of his indifference to her. Did she and Ron belong together as he had said? She certainly didn't think so, nor did she have any more romantic feelings for her friend whatsoever. She hated the idea of marrying him and being forced to breed an entire Quidditch team full of freckled, redheaded children.

Hermione shook her head and instead tried to focus on the words coming out of Harry's mouth as he led the way through the halls. Painstakingly he recounted what he had seen in the Pensieve and what had happened in the forest. They had not even begun to express all their shock and amazement when at last they arrived at the place to which they had been walking. Since they had last seen it, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's study had been knocked aside; it stood lopsided, looking a little punch-drunk, and they all wondered whether it would be able to distinguish passwords anymore.

"Can we go up?" Harry asked the gargoyle.

"Feel free," groaned the statue.

They clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved slowly upward like an escalator. Harry pushed open the door at the top. Hermione glimpsed the stone Pensieve on the desk where it had been left out before an earsplitting noise erupted within the room.

It was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and head mistresses of Hogwarts were giving him a standing ovation. They waved their hats and in some cases their wigs and reached through their frames to grip each other's hands. They danced up and down on the chairs in which they had been painted. Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly while Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet. Phineas Nigellus called, in his high, reedy voice, 'And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!'

But everyone could see that Harry had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and gratitude emanating from him filled Harry with the same balm as a phoenix song. At last, Harry held up his hands, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes, waiting eagerly for him to speak. He directed his words at Dumbledore and chose them with enormous care. Exhausted and bleary-eyed though he was, he must make one last effort, seeking one last piece of advice.

'The thing that was hidden in the Snitch,' Harry began, 'I dropped it in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?'

'My dear boy, I do,' said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. 'A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone else know where it fell?'

'No one,' said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction. 'I'm going to keep Ignotus's present, though,' said Harry, and the Headmaster beamed.

'But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!'

'And then there's this.' Harry held up the Elder Wand. 'I don't want it.'

'What?' said Ron loudly. 'Are you mental?'

'I know it's powerful,' said Harry wearily. 'But I was happier with mine. So…'

Hermione watched as he rummaged in the pouch hung around his neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still just connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. She remembered when she had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. But as she watched on while Harry laid the broken wand upon the headmaster's desk, touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and said 'Reparo,' she knew she had been mistaken. As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. They knew that he had succeeded.

'I'm putting the Elder Wand,' he told Dumbledore, who was watching him with enormous affection and admiration, 'back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it.'

Dumbledore nodded. They smiled at each other.

'Are you sure?' said Ron. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand.

'I think Harry's right,' said Hermione quietly.

'That wand's more trouble than it's worth,' said Harry. 'And quite honestly, I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

Hermione beamed at her friend, putting an arm around him to hug him tightly. Despite her own melancholy, she had never been so proud of him in all her life.

* * *

The sun was setting and the warm orange-pink glow was pouring the last of its life through the huge glass windows in the library.

Hermione was curled up in the armchair nearby, a book in her lap and a fire crackling in the grate. It was unseasonably cold for that time of the year, and her parent's home had not been lived in for many months. She had spent a vast portion of the last two days home alone, desperate for some space and solitude so that she could plan her next few steps. She wanted to restore her parent's memories and bring them home.

She sighed heavily and closed the tome on her lap. She was feeling far too lazy to get up and turn on the lights, but it was already getting to dark to be able to read the words on the page clearly. Being alone was such a foreign concept to her after her many months constantly on the run with Harry and Ron. She had never been so nomadic in her life as she had been over the past year. It was nice to finally settle down in one place for a while.

Hermione wondered for a moment what she was going to do now that the largest threat in her life had been removed.

Would she go back to Hogwarts and complete her final year? Would she forgo that and simply try to get a job? What kinds of options were available to her? She had no idea. She had a feeling that it would take months for the Ministry of Magic to get back on the right track. And while she waited, what then? She supposed she could always do independent study from home. She had no doubt that there would be plenty of places that would need volunteers to help with cleaning up. Hogwarts would definitely need volunteers.

Her mind strayed from thoughts about Hogwarts and turned, once more, towards Neville. She wondered where he was. Most likely living with his grandmother again now that she was no longer on the run. He was a constant presence in her mind more often than not these days, and she wondered how long it would be until she next saw him. Hermione hoped that when she did, she would be able to look at him without her heart breaking.

She looked out the window and saw that it was already quite dark and decided to leave her perch in search of sustenance.

Hermione walked downstairs to the kitchen and started riffling around in the cupboards. She found a tin of pea and ham soup and in the fridge there was a loaf of bread she had bought at the markets the day before. Pulling a saucepan out of the cupboard, she switched on the gas stove and was about to open the tin when she heard knocking on the front door. Switching off the flame, she cautiously walked to the front and using the peephole, gazed out to see who was invading her private time. Who she saw there was not wholly unexpected. She sighed and unlocked the door, opening it wide to allow Ron to enter.

'Hello, Hermione,' he said a little shyly.

She rolled her eyes. 'Come inside, Ronald,' she said, moving aside so that he could step over the threshold into her family home.

'We've all missed seeing you,' Ron said as she closed the door behind him. 'Harry is staying with us – it'd be nice if you did too while you're parents are still in Sydney.'

Hermione led the way to the kitchen, but threw a glance over her shoulder at him as she spoke. 'Ron, after spending almost a year on the run from death itself, I really just want to spend a little time by myself,' she explained. 'I know you mean well, but I do actually enjoy being here alone. I don't really want to go anywhere else until I have my parents back.'

Once in the kitchen she switched the stovetop back on and hunted around in the cupboard for another tin of soup. Using the can opener on both, she tipped them both into a large pot and sat it on the stove over a low heat. When she turned around to face Ron, he was sitting down at the kitchen table. She walked over to join him and sat opposite him so that they weren't touching.

'When will you go get your parents?' he asked.

'As soon as I can obtain a pass from the Ministry to create a Portkey,' she replied. 'It might be a few more weeks until it's possible, but I don't mind. At least I know that they are safe where they are.'

Ron nodded before looking up at her face again. 'I've missed you a lot, Hermione,' he said bluntly. 'I came here tonight to talk to you about that kiss back at Hogwarts. I thought that it meant… well I thought it meant that you might want us to be together, you know, finally.'

Hermione felt her stomach begin its journey up her throat, feeling sick with guilt. She should never have kissed Ron. Of all the stupid decisions she had ever made in the heat of the moment, that one had to take the cake. She closed her eyes and counted to ten in her head, willing herself to be calm before opening them again.

'Ron, I never meant to mislead you with that kiss,' she said quietly, looking down at her hands that were clasped together on her lap. 'I don't have those kind of feelings for you and I'm sorry that I gave you the impression that I did. Last year, perhaps, things might have been different, and I truly did think I was in love with you then. But ever since we started searching for the Horcruxes, I've come to understand that I don't any more.'

She looked up and him and saw that he was shattered, but he was clearly trying to hold it together in front of her. She felt her chest swell with pride as she watched him attempt to be calm and mature. Her friend truly had grown up. It was just unfortunate that she had grown apart from him in the process. He nodded, and she could see his eyes were slightly glazed-over with unshed tears. However, he did not cry or rage or scream and for that, she was grateful.

She reached a hand across the table and put her hand over his, pleased that he did not pull away. 'I do love you, Ron,' she said softly. 'I just don't love you the way you deserve any more. I think you'll come to find that we just aren't well-matched anymore.'

Ron nodded again and cleared his throat. 'I'm not going to lie – I came here expecting that we'd be able to finally start a relationship,' he said, his voice rough. 'I guess I shouldn't expect things to just happen because everyone thought they would.'

Hermione smiled at him. 'You don't want to be with me just because of a few people's expectations. I think you'll meet someone beautiful and special who will want the same things as you in life one day. That girl is just not me.'

'I know, and I understand.'

Hermione got up then and released his hand before going over to attend to the pot of soup on the stove. A few minutes later they both had a bowl of pea and ham soup before them, with a plate of toast in the middle for them to share. Ron smiled despite having just had his heart broken, and she knew that he would be able to bounce back from this in no time.

After they were finished eating and the dishes were clean, Ron left through the back door and Apparated back to the Burrow leaving Hermione alone once more.

She smiled as she closed the door, knowing that even though he was hurting now, at least he would be able to recover. She walked back upstairs to the library, switching on the light before heading over to the fireplace to stoke the fire again. Settling down in the armchair by the fire this time, she opened the book on her lap and began to read. After a while she switched the lights off and returned to the lounge to sit and stare at the fire. Her eyes grew heavy, and soon enough, she found sleep.

Hermione didn't know how many hours or minutes later it was, but she was awoken from her slumber by the sound of loud knocking on her front door once more and the sound of heavy rain hitting the tiles of the roof.

She cursed under her breath and hauled herself out of the chair, looking out the window to see if she could spot who it was from upstairs. All that she saw was a tall, dark shadow through the heavy rain. Hermione walked down the stairs with her wand drawn, wondering if Ron had done something stupid like getting drunk and coming to knock on her door in the middle of the night to argue. She sincerely hoped it was not the case. Peering through the peephole when she reached the door, her heart came to a stop in her chest before it started to pound so rapidly she felt dizzy.

She unlocked the door and opened it to allow a very wet Neville Longbottom enter the house.

He was shivering and the water was dripping from him onto the front doormat. Summoning a towel from upstairs, she wrapped it around him and stepped close to gentle dab the water from his face. He said nothing the whole time, allowing her to dry his hair. She tried to swallow the nervous lump in her throat, letting her arms fall to her sides numbly. She looked up at his face and noticed that there was a strange look in his eyes that worried her.

'Neville, what are you doing here?' she asked.

'I had to come, to tell you something. To explain myself,' he replied, looking down at her with a slight frown. 'I came by earlier tonight to see you, but when I saw Ron Apparate in the park across the road and walk over here, I left.'

'You were here? Why did you leave?' she asked.

'I thought that you had changed your mind about being with Ron,' he admitted, his cheeks flushing with colour. 'I thought you and he were a couple.'

'If you had stayed, you might know differently.'

'So, you are not a couple?' he asked, his eyes imploring her to say she was not.

She felt her breath catch in her throat. Had he come here to see her because he cared for her? 'We are not a couple,' she replied breathlessly. 'Ron came here to declare his feelings for me and to ask me for a relationship. I turned him down and apologised for leading him to believe that one was possible.'

Hermione did not recall much of what happened in the next few moments. One second the two of them were standing before one another, not touching, and the next she was caught up in his strong arms, his mouth pressed to hers hungrily in a kiss that curled her toes. Her arms wound around his neck as she accepted the kiss, urging him to deepen it by opening her mouth beneath his. Her breathing was shallow as they continued to kiss, only parting when the need for oxygen became paramount.

Hermione gasped for breath, staring up at his face as he sucked in air to replenish his lungs. His lips were glistening and pink, his hair was a mess, and his hazel eyes were dark with what she could only describe as desire. Her stomach did a flip in answer to it, and she reached hand up into his hair to tug him back down for a second delicious kiss. After a few minutes of snogging in the front hallway, they released one another and she led the way to the kitchen. She gestured for Neville to sit before putting the kettle on the stove to boil.

'I'm sorry for the way I behaved back at Hogwarts a few days ago,' he said as she bustled about the kitchen getting things out for tea.

She took a moment to compose herself before replying. 'I accept your apology,' she whispered, her back to him.

She heard the scrape of the chair against the floor and footsteps approach her before his hands grasped her shoulders almost desperately. She felt conflicted by her desire for his touch, and hurt from the way he had acted a few days before. In the end, she settled for standing stiffly in his grasp, head down as she waited for the water.

'I wanted to tell you that I do care for you,' he murmured. 'I wanted to tell you the moment you said those same words to me back there in the Great Hall. I was hurt when I saw you kiss Ron. I wanted it to be me. I just didn't want to hurt anyone, especially Ron, by picking you up and kissing you in the Great Hall – not when his family was in mourning.'

'I thought I told you I didn't have feelings for Ron,' she said, spinning around to face him, dislodging his hands in the process.

'I know what you said,' Neville replied, reaching down to grasp one of her hands. 'Hermione I am in love with you. I have been for years. I never expected you to return those feelings – ever. It was almost too good to be true.'

Hermione's eyes widened as he spoke, her heart hammering away against her ribcage. He loved her. She looked into his eyes and saw that it was the truth. She felt her eyes begin to burn with tears, blurring her vision. She lifted their clasped hands to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of his. He continued to hold her hands up before them, releasing her fingers so that he could press a kiss to her palm. Her stomach did a flip and she felt like she might fall over.

'You are the smartest, kindest and most beautiful girl I have ever known,' he declared. 'You never treated me unfairly from the moment we met in our first year. You always helped me when I needed it, even if it got you into trouble. How could you ever doubt that I have feelings for you?'

Hermione felt a tear escape and make the journey down her cheek. Without a care in the world, she threw her arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses. The sound of his laugh rang in her ears and she smiled, so glad that she could extract such a beautiful sound from him. She found herself laughing with him, their arms around each other as they stood in front of her stove with the kettle whistling loudly as the water reached boiling point.

'I'm sorry,' she said, releasing him and lifting the kettle off the flame, switching it off. 'Would you like some tea?'

He nodded. 'I'd love some tea.'

Hermione nodded and poured the boiling water into the pot she had prepared earlier. She turned around to face him again, which was when she noticed that he was still wearing wet clothes. Pulling her wand out of her sleeve, she cast a drying charm on him. They sat down at the kitchen table beside one another with their tea a few minutes later. For the first time in months, Hermione was happy. As she looked at the young man beside her, she knew the same was true for him as well.

When their tea was finished, Hermione took his hand and led him upstairs, suddenly feeling shy. She didn't know what the next step should be. Would it be appropriate for them to start a sexual relationship so soon? They were both still young, even if she was nearing nineteen. They had only just come to an understanding as to their feelings for one another after all. Deciding to take the neutral path, she walked to the library and the two sat beside one another on the comfortable lounge chair.

'It's strange,' he said eventually, breaking the silence. 'I could never imagined that you would have had feelings for me. I was always so sure that you were in love with Ron.'

'I thought so too, for the longest time,' she said with a chuckle. 'It took him running off and leaving me and Harry in the middle of nowhere on our own for me to realise it though.'

'I've been trying to convince myself not to come here fore days,' he said, looking at her in the warm orange glow of the fire. The flames casted shadows all over the place as it moved within the grate. 'I didn't want to disrespect the Weasley's that way. I know you mean a great deal to their family, and I have a lot of respect for them.'

'The Weasley's will always be like a second family to me, and Harry too,' she said seriously, looking him firmly in the eyes. 'But they don't have the right to govern who I have feelings for – especially Ron.'

Neville put his arm around her, pulling her tight against him. 'You should know, now that I'm here, it'll be extremely hard for you to convince me to let you go,' he murmured into her hair.

'You should know, I feel exactly the same way,' she replied, tilting her face up to press a kiss to his lips.

It wasn't long before it deepened, and what started as a sweet, innocent kiss, turned into one of passion. One of his hands was buried in her hair at the back of her neck, drawing her face even closer to his while his other hand gripped her waist. Without even knowing when it had happened, Hermione found herself astride his lap as they continued to savor one another. His hands remained respectfully on her hips, holding her firmly without being too aggressive.

Hermione found this very comforting. She was nervous about this and knowing that he was not going to push or force her into anything only made her desire him more. Her hands did not stay obediently still, travelling over his surprisingly firm chest. Over the past year of hardship, Neville appeared to have lost a lot of his boyish chubbiness and had muscles. Though she most likely wouldn't have cared either way, she did appreciate what she felt beneath his shirt.

Her hand strayed beneath the fabric, running it up his chest hesitantly, playing with the fine hair she found on his chest.

Neville pulled back from their kiss then, his eyes dilated and hair messed up beyond redemption. 'I don't want to rush you, Hermione,' he said seriously, his breathing shallow. 'If you're not ready for more…'

Hermione thought about what he was saying for a moment. Yes, it was moving very fast, and this was the last chance to put a stop to it before they would enter a territory that would be even more difficult to turn back from. On the other hand, she had never felt quite so wonderful or beautiful in her entire life. She knew what she was – she was skinny, had mousy-brown curly hair that was often unmanageable at best, and was bookish and pale unlike other curvaceous girls their age. But with Neville looking at her the way he was, she felt as though she was prettier than those girls.

'I don't want to stop,' she whispered finally. 'I want more.'

'Are you certain?' he asked. 'I don't want either of us to regret this. We've still got our whole lives ahead of us for more.'

Hermione cut off anything further he might try to argue with a kiss. 'Let's go find somewhere a little more comfortable,' she said simply.

She slid from his lap and stood, holding her hand out to him. He took it and stood to follow her as she led the way to her bedroom at the other end of the hall. Once inside, she unbuttoned her cardigan and dropped it on a chair in the far corner before standing before him with her hands clasped behind her back. She was nervous, but when he stepped closer to her and grasped the bottom of her blouse, it melted away. He smiled and began to inch her shirt up. Obligingly, she lifted her arms and allowed him to draw it off her. As soon as it was on the floor and she stood before him in her jeans and bra, she felt her cheeks flush.

She tried to cross her arms in front of her to hide, but Neville had other ideas. He reached behind her back with a confidence she never knew he had, unhooking her bra and removing the item of clothing with a wicked smile that was unlike the timid boy he had been. No – this Neville before her was a young man she knew would become a most spectacular human being. He was unfailingly kind, sweet, honest, with just a hint of the awkward boy he had been.

Her breasts revealed to him, she tried not to be embarrassed but found that it was harder to ignore than she thought it would be. His next move immediately soothed her nerves as he pulled his shirt off, revealing his chest to her as well. He was not as muscly as Ron, but there were muscles there, and not an ounce of extra flesh to be seen. They had all suffered from the war – everyone was thin those days. He pulled her into a comforting hug, brushing some hair out of her eyes and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

'You are beautiful,' he whispered. 'You've not a thing to be ashamed of.'

She smiled up at him. 'You are the sweetest, kindest person I have ever had the good fortune to meet,' she told him truthfully. 'I don't know why I never saw it before, but I am incredibly relieved to know that you care for me too.'

Their kiss was sweet then, and when they finally pulled away, they finished undressing each other, both a little nervous and shy. Hermione moved onto the bed and held her arms out for Neville to join her. She was a little embarrassed about showing her interest in his lower half, but soon found her curiosity getting the better of her. She followed his treasure line down to a slightly thicker thatch above the area that now held her interest.

Neville's erection stood out proudly from the rest of him. It appeared long, but by all accounts, she had nothing to compare it to. What the hell did she know about penis sizes? She wasn't sure if he was thicker or more slender than normal. It appeared to be glistening at the tip with a clear liquid however. Having read a few books out of curiosity about sex, she knew that it was pre-cum. Reaching out shyly, she grazed the dark pink tip of it with her fingers, rubbing the top with her thumb and drawing the liquid down his length.

His sharp intake of breath at this made her smile. Apparently she was doing something right.

Curiosity made her urge him onto his back before she slithered down so that her face was very close to his cock. Another drop of the liquid wept from the tip, and she experimentally leaned in and licked it off. Neville's hips bucked up. She found it was slightly salty, but not wholly unpleasant. Grinning, she used one of her hands to hold her hair out of her face and she opening her mouth and took the whole head of it between her lips, closing them and letting her tongue sweep over it once more. Releasing it she opened her mouth a little wider, taking in more of his length on her second attempt, politely keeping her teeth to herself as she sucked on her return up his length.

Neville's hand stalled her when she moved to do it again, causing her to look up at him in confusion.

'I won't be able to last if you keep doing that, Hermione,' he said, his voice hoarse with desire. 'Come up here.'

She scrambled up his body, straddling him once more, his erect cock pressing against her buttocks as she settled against him. His hand went to the back of her neck, drawing her down to kiss him. He soon had them rolled over so that Hermione was on her back, and inserted himself between her legs. His lips descended on her breasts, which he lavished with attention, kissing and suckling her nipples until they stood out from her chest proudly. She was embarrassed by how much she liked it, and wondered just how it was that Neville knew what he was doing.

As if sensing her question, he looked up at her and grinned. 'I might be a virgin, Hermione, but I lived in the dormitory with other blokes who aren't so innocent. I listened to them, and I think it might work in our favour that I did.'

She smiled. 'You are smarter than you give yourself credit for,' she said, gasping as his mouth returned to her nipples.

He moved down her body, kissing his way down until he was looking at her moist sex. She was a little ashamed of how wet she had become down there and knew without a doubt that her pubic hair would be glistening with some moisture. She felt his warm breath on her, and for a moment she thought his mouth would soon meet the bundle of nerves at the top of her slit. Instead she felt his index finger touch her clit before running down her slit to her moist entry. His finger pushed inside her, and she felt like squirming, it felt so good.

He chuckled, and she shot him a look that reflected her impatience, which only caused him to laugh once more.

She was about to scold him when she felt his tongue gently touch her clit. Her body jerked upwards in reaction to his sudden touch as the most incredible pleasure coursed through her. He did it again, and she wasn't sure which of the two of them moaned louder. His fingers resumed the task of pumping in and out of her, a second having been added shortly after the first. The combined sensation of his fingers within her and his tongue moving over her clit was almost too much to bear. Within moments she came apart in the most intense orgasm she had every experienced.

When she had finally regained the brain function to breath, Neville crawled up her body with the smuggest expression she had ever seen him wear. She didn't mind though – she wanted to do the same to him and make him come apart before her. She smiled and pulled him down for a kiss, not bothered at all that her own essence was upon his lips.

It was then that she realised Neville had reached down and was trying to move his erection into positing below. He looked into her eyes then, an unspoken question passing between them. Hermione nodded in response, unable to tell him no. He had the presence of mind to grab his wand that was on the floor beside his pants and cast a contraception charm on her before he began to slowly inch himself into her. She felt herself stretch uncomfortably as he pushed inside slowly, her body trying to accommodate his girth.

There was a sharp pinch as she felt her hymen tear as he settled himself in her fully. Tears blurred her vision as she took several deep breaths while she waited for her body to adjust.

After a few moments the pain faded away and she looked up at Neville's concerned expression and nodded for him to continue. He pulled out nearly the whole way before moving back in which sent another spike of pain through her. After a few of the same they settled into a pattern and the pain was replaced with a dull ache that hardly bothered her at all. Neville's look of concentration amused her and she knew it was taking a lot of effort for him not to come quickly.

After a few minutes of thrusting into her she felt his back stiffen as his thrusts became suddenly jerkier. Knowing his orgasm was imminent; she reached up and pulled him down, fastening her lips to his in a passionate kiss. He groaned into her mouth as warm semen spilled from his cock deep within her. His thrusting came to a stop and his body stilled above hers as he attempted to prevent himself from collapsing onto her.

He withdrew from her slowly then, picking up his wand and casting a cleansing charm on both of them, removing his come in the process so that it did not create a mess on her bed. She smiled up at him gratefully before pulling him down to lie beside her on the bed.

'Wow,' he said softly, looking into her eyes.

She laughed. 'You can say that again,' she replied.

His eyebrows suddenly furrowed in concern. 'Did I hurt you?' he asked, his tone worried. 'Are you feeling okay?'

Hermione grinned. 'I am more than okay,' she said, pecking him on the lips gently. 'It was wonderful, Neville.'

He sighed in relief. Gently, he urged her onto her side so that he was able to spoon against her from behind. He brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed a spot just below her ear making her smile. Soon after Hermione heard his breathing even out and knew that she was sleeping. She pulled the covers over them properly and snuggled back down into Neville's embrace, humming her contentment into her pillow.

Hermione closed her eyes that were heavy with weariness, but just before sleep claimed her, she reflected on the events of the past few days. Though they hadn't defined their relationship, she was not worried in the least. The strong arms of her lover, who was asleep behind her, surrounded her. She did not know what the future held for her, but one thing she knew for certain was that they would figure it out together.

Smiling, she allowed herself to drift into the arms of Morpheus.

* * *

The end.


End file.
